Esa vieja canción

On Fridays, we write in our other languages!

Day 3 of 31 at TWT!

Duuu du du, da da da duu duu duu duu... Los primeros compases de guitarra me suenan tan familiares que me siento como me he sido sacudida, despertada de repente. Los pensamientos errantes desvanecen de inmediato, y con una claridad inesperada, en solo un momento, he viajado dieciocho años en el pasado. 

- Toca esa vieja canción... - Estoy sentando en un autobús rojo, típico de Madrid.

- ... que un día bailé con mi nena... - Llevo mis audífonos amarillos puestos, la cuerda serpenteando hasta mi bolsa azul, donde tengo escondido mi tocadiscos Walkman. Mantengo un brazo sobre la bolsa aunque la tengo sobre el regazo, y sostengo la correa en una mano siempre, como toda la gente en Madrid, con cuidado a los ladrones. 

- ...Rómpeme el corazón... - ¡RÓMPEME EL CORAZÓN...! Es casi imposible no cantar junta con esa canción, con su letra repetida y su melodía tan emotivo. La silla cómoda de mi Honda Odyssey desaparece y puedo sentir el banco duro y resbaladizo del autobús. Ahora no estoy en camino al trabajo. Viajo a una clase universitaria, o quizás al centro, a Callao, para dar un paseo por la Puerta del Sol y la Plaza Mayor.

Me sacudo y aclaro la cabeza, agarrando bien el volante. Soy yo, ahora, en los EEUU. Me río: ¡a mis hijas y mis estudiantes les parecería una anciana si les dijera mis memorias de escuchar música en discos compactos! Recuerdo como aún entonces, hace tantos años, cuando era tan joven, la nostalgia emotiva de esa canción siempre me conmovió. Ahora, años después, me sorprende su poder para transportarme al pasado con tanta fuerza. 

- ... Y el día que muera ponedme una vela... - Me da pausa. No recuerdo cómo me enteré, creo que había estado recorriendo Facebook, pero hace solo pocos meses supe que había muerto el cantador, Pau, hace unos años. A mí me encantaban sus canciones desde que mi tío, sin saber ni una palabra de español, me compró su primer disco mientras estudiaba español en la escuela secundaria. Recuerdo que me sentía muy especial que mi tío había intentado comprarme algo que me interesara aunque no podía ni entenderlo. Luego compré más discos de Jarabe de Palo, y casi siempre llevaba al menos uno conmigo en mi bolsa callejera durante mis meses de estudio en España. - ...Rómpeme el corazón...

El poder de la música. El poder de la poesía. El poder de los recuerdos. - Toca esa vieja canción...

la canción: ¡que la disfruten!

Shouting out 'Hooray!'

Day 28 of 31 at TWT!

 "What're you turning on the TV for?" Rainbow Girl cranes her neck from her spot crouched on the floor, playing with the VTech Smart Animals set affectionately known in our house as "Kitty and Baba's house". 

"Oh, there's something special I'm hoping we can see today..." I grin.

"What is it? What is it? What is it?" Sweetie starts leaping around the family room, and Rainbow soon imitates her. 

I just smile and find the right place to click on the tv's YouTube app until the event pops up... with a preview picture of someone very special! 

"LAURIE!!!!" Both girls squeal and jump as if they're seeing a best friend or favorite family member. 

The countdown timer appears, and after yelling, "church!" because it's the same one our church uses before online services, they excitedly count down as they prance around the room. ("Is it church?" Rainbow Girl keeps interjecting, and I keep reassuring her, "It's just the same countdown as church. It's gonna be Laurie!")

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0..." Bouncing curls, bright eyes, a smile that seems to tell even me that everything is going to be ok, and a guitar appear, and it's spring of 2020 and 2 years of rocking chair snuggles all at once as Laurie Berkner launches into the song that's become our special lullaby, "When I Woke Up Today". Rainbow runs around the room for a verse and then scrambles onto my lap as if she can't decide if it's better to dance or cuddle to this song. "I shouted out 'hooray'! / 'cause I knew I'd see you..." I pull her close as I coo into her ear, "and we could sing together..."

Just like we've seen her do for 2 years now, Laurie looks straight into the camera after the song, telling us to grab our instruments and stuffed animals, seeming to talk right to us in that Mr. Rodgers-esque measured, caring way. Even I forget that she can't actually see us; her conversational tone is so authentic. It truly feels as if an old friend is visiting us as we notice the new decorations in her house and watch her tune her guitar, take sips of water, and dance around her family room as we frolic around ours.

blanket-monsters for the "Monster Boogie" today!

I can't believe it's been 2 years. Rainbow has grown from a sitting baby flailing her "Laurie shake-shake" to a preschooler who can actually jump along with "Chipmunk at the Gas Pump". We've curated our own playlists to enjoy when the daily Lives stopped and eagerly celebrated the release of new music videos. Sweetie has gone from finishing preschool remotely to thriving in person in 1st grade.

so little in spring 2020!

a quick dance break with their daddy in summer 2020!

When I see Laurie's smile, I remember how Rainbow gradually stopped crying as Laurie put on her mask at the end of every Facebook Live in spring 2020; how that simple act helped her understand that Laurie was still Laurie in a mask and by the time we actually started needing to wear masks, it was no big deal. I remember the guaranteed half hour of joy each day when the stress and weight of the pandemic lifted away as we danced and wiggled around this room and listened to Laurie tell us we were superheroes and she loved us. I remember the delight of learning fun new songs and the familiar comfort of classics we already knew. I remember stuffed animals on our heads, becoming goldfish and dinosaurs and monsters, and grabbing Husband out of the den to blast off Rocketship-Sweetie into the air while I lifted Rainbow-Rocketship beside her. I remember scooping up 1yo Rainbow to fly her around like a bumblebee. I remember the magical excitement of Laurie saying the girls' names or playing requested songs we put in the chat. I remember dragging all our our pool toys into house for the virtual beach concert and wearing our costumes for the Halloween one. I remember the way both girls' faces absolutely lit up every single time Laurie appeared on our TV, and the way Rainbow would grab favorite toys and run up to the TV to show Laurie, convinced that she could really see us. I remember both sisters running wildly around the house with their toy guitars, "Laurie shake-shake" (tambourine), toy Harry the Chipmunk, and superhero blanket-capes.

Most of all, I remember having something certain to look forward to when the days dragged into weeks and months, and hope turned into uncertainty, monotony, and frustration. And I remember, as we noticed small changes in Laurie's room, saw her dial in other bandmates from their houses across the miles, and watched her overcome technical challenges and learn new digital tricks, feeling like we were really in this together.

So on a much-too-frigid-to-be-outside, still-not-safe-from-Covid-indoors first day of Spring Break, there was truly "no better thing to do / than sing a song and hear you sing it too" with Laurie. Thank you, Laurie, for your concerts in our house these past 2 years. Someday, we hope to see you in person.

Rainbow, now 3, holding her own animal for "Pig on Head"!

Ride in the car!

Day 29 of 31 at TWT!

Sun streams through the windshield, making Rainbow Girl's hair in the mirror seem lighter than it really is. It's chilly today, but it looks deceivingly beautiful as we zip along the country roads, taking the long way home, as always. For most of last year, she hated the car (probably because the only place we went all spring and summer was to the doctor to get shots!), but in the fall, she suddenly decided riding in the car was so fun that she didn't want to get out, loudly yelling "I don't WANT head home!" when we approached our neighborhood. Suddenly, she would screech "YEAH! RIDE IN THE CAR!" when I said it was time to pick up one of Sweetie's free school lunches for remote learners, and one of our sanity-saving winter activities became driving around for an extra 20-30 minutes on any day the lunch is something Sweetie likes. 

Just a few minutes from our house, we can zoom along safe, fun backroads with rolling hills, gorgeous views, and few other cars. One minute we're gliding past wide-open, placid farm fields, and around the next bend, we're winding through wooded areas where long, gated driveways lead to mansions we can barely catch glimpses of. On one of our favorite routes, we even sail past the historic, well-preserved farm where the namesake of Sweetie's school, a freed slave, became the first Black farm-owner in the county and hid escaping slaves on the Underground Railroad. Just down the road, we peer at the reservoir that now covers the riverbank caves where the escaping slaves would hide until the farm owners rang a bell that signaled safety, and we think about the courage of all involved.

When we're not contemplating history, the girls balance singing loudly along to their playlist, looking at books, and looking out the window. With her musical car mirror, Rainbow Girl can see out the front windshield too, even though she's rear-facing, and I love seeing her little finger in my rearview mirror, pointing into her mirror at something we're approaching. "LOOK!" she'll screech, "DIGGERS!" (Both girls are in love with construction vehicles of all kinds.) Or I'll see her holding up a book, tiny finger on a picture, declaring, "A rabbit! Look, a rabbit!" or "I see Brown Bear, Brown Bear!"

She also loves to introduce each song by shrieking her special nickname for it when she hears the first few notes. For example,"How Far I'll Go" from Moana is "Pig!" because she likes watching for Moana's pig friend to appear in the music video during our YouTube playlist dance parties. "For the First Time in Forever" from Frozen is "Quack Quacks!" or "Duckies!" because she loves the little family of ducks that waddles by Anna at one point in the video.

In the car, it's astonishing to see how much she's memorized each video as she narrates her favorite songs by describing what happens in the video, exactly at the right moment in the song, announcing when Moana "dives in the pool!" in "I am Moana", or when Elsa shoots off ice fireworks in "Some Things Never Change".

Even better, she narrates the Spanish ones too, and while I know she just has the songs and their videos memorized like the English ones, she's also connecting the Spanish lyrics she's learning to the pictures in her head from the videos, and starting to learn what some words mean. I'm so proud when she declares, "Nariz means nose!", "I like melon!" or shakes her body at the correct times when "Hormiguita" comes on in the car. (Sweetie loves to help by tickling her in the correct body part as the ant crawls around!) Or when she tells what each letter does in "La Ronda de Vocales": "He bring a present for her mommy! He eats! He rides her bike!" (At just over two, she's still working on English too, and one of her more adorable explorations right now is pronouns that don't always agree with themselves.) 

Sweetie, who loves to be Elsa, mostly asks questions about the sights and helps make sure her little sister has the right book or her water cup... until the Frozen songs come on. Then she's fully focused on singing every word at the top of her lungs, making Elsa-ice-power motions with her hands (sometimes copied by Rainbow). 

I'm glad we'll be able to start enjoying more time outdoors and using the car to really go to parks (and eventually more normal places), but these winter car rides have been a fun way to get out of the house and yard while still being safe at home together!

"Hormiguita (Ant)" is one of our favorite songs, and I'm so grateful that there are amazing YouTube channels like La Gallina Pintadita with high-quality visuals (and sing-along lyrics for my budding reader) so I can give them access to a whole wider range of Spanish input! Before I discovered this and curated a playlist, Rainbow Girl (with her aversion to new things) was not a fan of me trying to use Spanish. Now, not only does she love Spanish songs, she's gleefully starting to use Spanish to communicate, just like her big Sis and Mommy!

Fé, en un mundo pesado

 

Day 26 of 31 at TWT!

Fridays!

I blog in Spanish on Fridays. If you don't read Spanish, feel free to paste this post's url into Google Translate and experience the wonder (& imperfection) of machine translation!

-El mundo pesa mucho ahorita.- He escrito estas palabras demasiado veces durante la semana pasada. (Y las semanas, meses, y el año entero antes.) Las he escrito en varios comentarios que he dejado en los blogs de otros participantes del desafío de marzo, en respuestas en Twitter, y en mensajes a mis amigos. Y las he pensado, dentro de mi mente, mil veces más. 

La verdad es que siempre ha sido pasado el mundo en que vivimos ¿verdad? Es cierto que han existido siempre las problemas que amenazan a derrotarnos ahora. La violencia, el odio, el racismo, el egoísmo... estos no son novedades. Quizás nos pesan más ahora porque estamos viviendo todo esto Y esta pandemia, como si el virus fue un peso más de lo que podemos cargar?

Desde niña he soñado con crear un mundo mejor. Recuerdo mis intentos en primaria a crear un club sobre el cuidado del medioambiente, los juegos imaginarios de parar la guerra que inventé con mis amigos, la recogida de comida que organicé para el grupo local de gente indígena. Recuerdo que tanto me angustió la historia colonizadora y violente del cristianismo que casi no quería confirmarme cuando acerqué a la edad típica de la confirmación en la iglesia metodista. (Lo hice por la presión social y también porque estaba segura que creía en Dios, aunque de veras, en el momento, no estaba segura si quería ser cristiana, sabiendo todo lo mal que hicieron los supuestos cristianos durante dos mil años... pero por suerte, me encontré con Cristo más tarde y ahora sé que ser cristiana no tiene nada que ver con lo que han hecho otras en el nombre de Jesús, sino lo que hago yo en mi relación con él.)

Por toda la vida, he sido muy empática, muy sensible, con emociones muy fuertes, hasta sentirme fuera de lugar con los otros niños (y aún mucha gente ahora), porque me preocupa tanto este impulso a cambiar el mundo. (Un día de primaria, llegué a casa y le dijo a mi mamá que -Mis intereses son distintos que los de mis compañeros.-) He deseado tanto un mundo con donde la gente se cuidaran, no sólo los familiares y los amigos, aún no sólo los conocidos, sino todo el mundo cuidándose, los unos a los otros. Un mundo donde todos cuidarían de la tierra, del impacto de las acciones ahora y en el futuro. Anhelaba un mundo donde cada persona se sintiera que le importara, de verdad, a alguien más. Un mundo con menos odio, menos descuido, y más amor. 

Por eso, cuando por primera vez escuché la canción Fé por Maná, la llamó mi atención de inmediato. -No puedo entender este mundo como es...- Era como si cada letra de la canción fuera escrita directamente de y para mi corazón: -...El mundo puede cambiar, / sólo hay que intentarlo. / No hay que odiar, / hay que amar...-

(Para Uds. que no entienden esta canción hermosísima, aquí hay una traducción al inglés.)

Mientras crecía, he llegado a entender que tengo muchos privilegios, que el mundo es mucho menos pesado para mí que para muchísimas personas. Y aunque siempre me han molestado mucho las injusticias, y he intentado luchar, hay mucho más que puedo y debo hacer, aunque sea difícil e incluso incómodo. 

Entonces, cuando me siento desanimada o desmayada con el estado del mundo, con lo mucho que hay que hacer, con lo pequeño que parece el papel que hago, ésta es una de las primeras canciones que pongo a escuchar. -¡Fé! ¡Dame fé! / Dame alas. Dame fuerza...-

Y sé que la fé que busco viene en varias partes: fé que Dios está trabajando siempre, sí, pero también fé en mi misma para seguir adelante, fé en las personas que me apoyan, fé que aún si me siento un poco sola a veces, hay mucha gente alrededor del mundo que desean lo mismo que yo. (Y recuerdo que muchos de ellos son Uds. que leen esta entrada ahora, mis -amigos- de blogging y Twitter, y les agradezco mucho.)

-Hay que amarnos como hermanos. / Tenemos el valor para darnos más amor, yo sé... / Hay que intentar, hay que intentar, / no hay que perder la fé- 

Gracias por intentar conmigo. ¡Adelante, con fé!

Even when we can't see it

Day 21 of 31 at TWT!

Maybe it's because the sun is shining so brightly this Sunday that it casts floating sunbeams around the girls as they dance to the worship songs coming from our TV.

Maybe it's the sight of the girls frolicking around under that sunshine, cheerfully sporting their favorite unicorn masks at the church's socially distanced Easter egg hunt, waving at church friends in person (from afar) for the first time in months.

Meeting the Easter Bunny!

Mostly, I think it's the way, as I tell Rainbow to hold my hand in the parking lot as she toddles beside me, I realize that's the first time I've ever done that. We've hardly been anywhere since she could walk, and I've mostly carried her through the parking lots of the few places we've been to, partly out of habit and partly because she's usually glued to me. As her tiny hand grips mine and she scampers beside me, I think of how big she must seem to the church staff who greet us. She was still such a baby the last time we went to church, and most of these people haven't seen her since then.

Now, she proudly declares, "I'm not a baby anymore! I'm a big girl!" whenever we mention a memory from when she was a baby, or whenever we talk about how big she's getting.

Yesterday, she ate bologna for the first time!

She's learning to wash her hands by herself (even though we have to splash water from the faucet onto her because her little arms don't even come close).

She talks constantly, in huge, multi-part sentences, navigating a variety of grammatical structures. (I know, I'm a language nerd.)

She decides she loves the Easter Bunny as soon as she sees him, proudly showing him her basket and asking to go say hi to him again every few minutes. "I like the Easter Bunny!" she announces, flashing her signature crinkly-eyed "happy smile".

After just a few times of us pointing out the eggs to her, she quickly learns to squat down, grab an egg, and put it in her fluffy white bunny basket.

Instead of burrowing into my shoulder and shaking her head dramatically, she actually says hi to the children's church staff that she usually sees on Zoom, excited to see them in person.

Yes, she's a big girl now. And anyone outside of our immediate family has missed this gradual-but-sudden transition from baby to small person. They didn't see it, but she has been growing and changing so much, right before our eyes.

<3

The song "Waymaker" starts flowing through my head:

"Even when I don't see it, You're working, 

Even when I can't feel it, You're working,

You never stop, You never stop working,

You never stop, You never stop working..."

Because God is here on this beautiful day, but He has also been here all this time. 

He has been here through the challenges of 2020 and He will be here into whatever comes next. He has been here through the frigid winter and into this bright spring. He was with us when we thought we might not be able to give Sweetie a sibling, He was with Rainbow Girl in the NICU, He was with us as she grew stronger, He was with us as we figured out how to be a family of four, and He has been here with us as she becomes a little person.

Even when we couldn't see it, He was working. He never. stops. working. 

Just when light came back into our lives from the darkness we'd been living, the world turned dark. And it has been so, so dark, in so many ways. But He is more than just a light in that darkness, He is actively working to bring us out of it. He did it for our family and He is doing it for the world.

Even when we don't see it. Even when we don't feel it. 

COVID. Racism. Hatred. Xenophobia. Isolation. Loss. Burnout. Discouragement. On top of all the "usual" struggles that come with being human, the personal tragedies and struggles we all face. It's hard, sometimes, to see the light. It's hard to see Him working for good. But he is.

Just as there is sunshine and warmth after the winter, just as friendship and love outlast distance, just as tiny preemie NICU babies on breathing machines grow into little-big girls who scamper through fields... beauty will come of this broken world.

Even when we can't see it yet.

Hold us together

Day 3 of 31 at TWT!

"Welcome to the community!" "It's an incredible experience!" "I'm so excited for you!" "This is an amazing community!" "You're going to love it!" As I hopped around the posts of anyone who'd said they a first-time Slicer, I found myself repeating the same phrases: not out of laziness, but because I was overcome with excitement for what awaited these new Slicers. It was like Christmas Eve, waiting for my girls to discover their presents the next morning. 

Some of them were absolute first-time bloggers whose nervous posts brought me right back to the jittery feeling of hovering my mouse over the "publish" button for the first time, way back in August of 2011. "YOU ARE AWESOME AND THE WORLD NEEDS YOUR AWESOME IDEAS!" I wanted to shout to them. (I toned it down and did not, in fact, actually shout in any of my comments to them. But I did say "So glad you wrote!" and "Glad you're here!" lots of times.)

Some of them had already been blogging but never sliced here, or never participated in the March challenge. "IT'S GOING TO CHANGE YOUR LIFE!" I wanted to shout to these bloggers. (I restrained myself again and told them instead how much they'd grow as writers, or how they'd learn to think like writers and capture small moments to treasure.)

Most of all, I wanted to absolutely screech to all of them, "MEET YOUR NEW FRIENDS! GET READY TO BE AFFIRMED!!!" (Instead, I found myself repeating variations of "incredible community" over and over.) Because more than anything else, it's the loving, encouraging community that Ruth and Stacey built so long ago that makes this challenge so exceptional. (It's driving me crazy that I can't find a better word for "community", but it's the only one that really fits!) I kept wanting to write "place" even though a group of strangers from around the world sending words through their computers is not a place. But that's exactly the thing: it feels like a place. It feels like local coffeeshops or bars must feel to people who like them. It feels like a neighborhood cookout or block party. It feels like sitting on your front porch or your back deck with a good friend and a glass of lemonade. 

Why? Because the expectation of leaving comments for at least 3 other writers creates an instant network. Because so many veteran slicers have poured true love into those comments for years, celebrating craft moves while appreciating the heart of the message and strengthening connections over time. 

Because once you've received a comment that slices straight into your heart, making you feel seen as a writer and a human, you can't wait to start leaving the same kinds of comments for others. 

As I mentioned in my post on Monday, it would've been so much easier to skip this year. But the community made me want to come back. Especially this year, after everything that we've all been through.

Because as this song, which my church played at our first virtual service in March of last year, says: 

"Love will hold us together,
make us a shelter to weather the storm,
and I'll be my brother's keeper
so the whole world will know that we're not alone..."

It was the perfect song choice for that first Sunday of separation and fear. 

And it's the perfect song to capture the Slice of Life community. I wouldn't have kept blogging if nobody was responding to my posts. I wouldn't be the writer or teacher I am now if I hadn't kept blogging. The bloggers who first welcomed me are now my Facebook friends. We've been through so many significant moments in our lives together, even though we've never met in person. It really is love that holds us together, and I'm so excited for these new Slicers to know that they're not alone.

Songs in my head and heart

Day 2 of 31 at TWT!

"Hum a little, Marion!" That's what my mom has always said when she catches me humming unknowingly, since my great-grandmother apparently also hummed all the time. Husband loves to catch me at it, since he knows it means I'm happy, and now even my daughters have started to giggle when they point it out and realize I didn't know. I can't help it; there's always a song in my head, and they sometimes leak out, usually without me realizing it!

Almost anyone who has met me knows that I was a member of The Ohio State University Marching Band for five years, since that’s almost always the “interesting fact” I share about myself when I meet people. When I studied Spanish in school, I loved the songs my teachers shared with us so much that 20 years later, my phone still has a significant number of songs by Maná. Between those passions and my faith, my brain (and phone) are full of such a variety of songs that you never know if Jarabe de Palo, Chicago, Avicii, Kenny Chesney, or Hillsong will leak out!

For my first five years of teaching Spanish to elementary and middle school students, songs were an essential part of my lesson plans. When I sing "Vengan a Ver Mi Granja" to my baby girl in the rocking chair now, I'm always transported back to holding up labeled animal pictures in front of a classroom full of eager kids, reveling at their joy as they realized that animals don't "say" the same things in every language! And when my girls asked to "the fishy song" ("Los peces en el río") throughout December, I kept remembering the pride and joy on a young Latina student's face as she screeched out to the class, "We sing this at my church!!!"

Looking back on all that music, it’s surprising to realize that once I started teaching high school EL students, music abruptly disappeared from my classroom. It’s not that I meant to do away with it; it just fell away as I dramatically shifted my teaching from “learning a language is fun!” to “oh my goodness, these kids have to survive in biology class and pass graduation tests!” Suddenly, I was trying to implement reading and writing workshop, facilitate academic discussions, and inspire students to be more active learners with goal-setting and reflection techniques. I’d hear my world language colleagues using music down the hall and smile (while adding Lasso to my phone), but it didn’t seem to fit in with my teaching anymore. 

A few years ago, Christopher Lehman came to my district’s Literacy Conference and walked us through analyzing a song (I think it was “Roar” by Katy Perry) using close-reading techniques. I thought, “How cool, to use music like poetry!” and added the idea to my ever-percolating lesson bank, where it sat unused because… I didn’t know any pop songs? I was too overwhelmed to go on a search for the right songs? I was afraid I’d pick a song and the kids would hate it? I had plenty of poems I liked to use already? I got too busy with other things and mostly forgot?

Whatever the reason, music was mostly absent from my EL classroom until I had an epiphany while studying Zaretta Hammond's Culturally Responsive Teaching and the Brain. Song study became a powerful routine for my beginner ELs, and music filled our classroom for several months last year... until, of course, we all left our classroom, without knowing we'd never return.

In this long, strange year at home, music has become one of our family's definitive joys. Ever since we discovered that Laurie Berkner had started streaming live-from-her-living-room mini-concerts last March, we've treasured a daily half-hour routine of dancing and singing to our favorite songs on Facebook Live or YouTube. We've built playlists for when Laurie's not live, and both girls love picking out which songs we'll sing, dance, and snuggle along to every day. As soon as we finish our calendar routine, baby girl shrieks, "Laurie!" and any tension in the day flows away as we enjoy church songs, Spanish songs, Disney songs, Daniel Tiger songs, school songs, Christmas songs (yes, even after Three Kings' Day was over, don't judge!) and of course, Laurie favorites.

Riding their unicorns while singing along to "Candy Cane Jane"! <3

So when I started to seriously decide that yes, I could do the March Slice of Life Challenge this year, music floated its way into my brain. What if I tied a favorite song into each slice? It could be a powerful way to honor music's special place in my heart; after all, it would probably occupy an equal space to reading and writing in my heart map. Plus, connecting a song to a daily story could be both a challenge, a way to combat writer's block, and a new twist to help me get more excited to really try to write for a month, something I haven't done in several years. My heart jumps just thinking of all the songs I love that have stories to tell, and all the stories that I could connect to a song!
I'll consider the songs I mentioned & playlists I linked above as today's "song" (ok, it's a whole bunch of songs and I'm breaking this format before I've even started it, but it seems fitting for this intro post!), but I hope you'll enjoy my songs-with-stories and stories-with-songs over the next month!

Time traveling

Day 10 of 31 at TWT!

My skin prickles as those almost-forgotten chords wake me out of my morning-drive trance. Like magic, the radio simultaneously pulls me clearly into the present moment and far into the foggy past.

"With a little love, and some tenderness..."

It's been ages since I heard this song! As if uncurling from a long, deep sleep, a hidden part of me starts to sing, welcoming every word and note like an old friend.

"With a little peace, and some harmony..."

I'm eleven again, standing in the music store in Grand Central Mall, buying my first CD. Cracked Rear View. I don't even remember how I started liking Hootie and the Blowfish or why I picked that as my first album, but I will never forget buying that CD. One of those rare moments when you're almost standing outside yourself, realizing that you're growing up.

Cracked Rear View. That brownish, distressed picture. I read the liner notes over and over. I knew every word to every song. I played that CD so often that I eventually had to stop, because it started skipping so much that it became obnoxious.

It always had a place of honor at the top of my CD tower!

After that, I just moved on: some classic rock, Dave Matthews Band, and even (cringe) the Backstreet Boys. I never even got another Hootie CD. 

But twenty years later, hearing any song from that album is like opening a door and finding a room from my childhood perfectly preserved. Like uncovering a piece of buried treasure hidden in the sand. Like finding a piece of myself that I didn't know I had lost.